


Broken Together

by MoonClown



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonClown/pseuds/MoonClown
Summary: Joker comes home to find you have broken down and resorted to self harming. He helps stitch you back together.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s), Joker (DCU)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/You
Kudos: 30





	Broken Together

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote part of this awhile back and saved it as a draft. I wasn’t sure if I would ever publish it, but after tonight I thought I’d go ahead and finish it. I need this for myself right now, and I’m hoping this can help anyone else going through something similar. This is more of a ramble than a fic, and I did not edit anything, so apologies for any errors and for the length.

Without a word he lifts me up and takes me into the bathroom. Setting me down on the toilet seat, he proceeds to break out the first aid kit. I know what’s coming. We use it often after intense sex, where one or both of us gets a bit carried away. This time, though, it’s different. We both know that.

“Mind, uh… Mind telling me what happened?” He speaks up, eyes too busy searching for the peroxide and bandages to meet mine.

“…I broke down…” I whispered, gaze dropping to the floor in shame. “I’m sorry…”

“At ta ta… You know that’s not what needs to be said, doll.” He chastises me gently, his hooded eyes finally glancing over to my hunched form. I refuse to meet his gaze, too embarrassed and ashamed to look him in the eye. It’s almost like he can read my thoughts swirling about with a single look in my eyes.

“…Doll…” His voice snaps me out of my thoughts. He now stands before me, pinstriped pants consuming my view. I guess now I have no choice but to let my inner thoughts spill. Reluctantly, I lift my head with a sigh.

“I… I just…” I stutter, not knowing where to begin. I gulp and try to steady my breathing before continuing. “All these thoughts were popping up. I’m not even sure what triggered it. They just kept coming and coming and… And I didn’t know what else to do. I panicked.”

J’s now kneeling before me, face inches from mine as he quietly listens. He lets me ramble, making no motion to stop the words tumbling from my mouth. All he does is sit and listen, peroxide in hand, ready for when I finish my raving.

“It’s all I could think of to stop the thoughts. I didn’t know what else to do, J. I’m sorry! I didn’t know when you would be home, or if you even would be back tonight. I just wanted it all to stop! I… It’s like I craved it. Like if I just got one hit I’d be okay! But then it’s like I couldn’t stop. I got carried away…”

By this point I’m sniffling, a fresh batch of tears streaking down my cheeks in waves. The waterworks have returned, and I don’t know when they’ll stop. Or if I want them to.

But J understands. He knows this is a signal that I’m fresh out of words, and he carefully takes the peroxide and dabs it onto a cotton ball. His hand hovers above my wounds, his eyes searching my wet ones for unspoken permission to continue. I give a weak nod and a forced smile, and he replies with his own sad one. Even though I was expecting it, the sting of the chemical pulls a hiss of pain from my lips. Despite my previous intentional pain I dread this sensation. But, thankfully, it’s over as soon as it hit, and, after placing a kiss full of unspoken love and a bandage on top, J’s got me patched up.

His kisses won’t heal my broken skin. His care won’t mend the self inflicted wounds. But his love will help stitch the broken heart in my chest.

“…Thank you, J…” I mumble as my tears begin to dry. J is still kneeling on the bath mat in front of me, and I rest my head against his shoulder. I feel as though I’ve been hit by a train, both my body and mind so exhausted. My arms wrap around him in an attempt to bring him even closer. J returns the gesture by pulling me against him.

“I won’t let anyone hurt ya, doll. Not even yourself. I’ll help ya through this. We’re in this together, sweets”

I give a whine, wanting to burst into tears again had I not been so tired.

He responds with a gentle hush, a hand coming up to sweetly pet my head. I’m so tired I barely even register the touch, instead taking to closing my eyes and letting a dreamless sleep claim me. My last memory before drifting off is of being lifted up by strong arms and carried to bed. A vague voice reaches my ears, though in my haze I can’t be sure if what I heard was real.

“I love ya, Y/N.”


End file.
